A Tragedy
ACT I.
Scene I—The Forum.
A multitude of citizens gathered therein. Disturbance shown among them by sullen looks and murmurings. Four citizens, two in patrician and two in plebeian garments, confer together.
1st Cit. Enough, enough! I see we all agree
Upon this common cause of our grievance;
Our ranks, our unmixed blood, our differences,
Are all forgotten—nay, methinks they shall
In time together mingle when our blood
Shall be poured forth in this most righteous cause.
2nd Cit. As ever art thou eloquent, O Marius,
And just; Brutus himself were not more so.
Patrician and plebeian, equalized
By common woe, together whisper menace
To those who work such havoc as, indeed,
Was never known in Rome until to-day.
3rd Cit. Ye two are nobles; we, the commons are;
Yet all are leveled by the grief we feel
For Rome, our mother city, who so low
Hath fall'n. Hark! the multitude itself
Is wroth as we, yet, e'en as we, it lacks
The courage needful for this fierce occasion.
4th Cit. Ay, list indeed! Mark how the murmur swells!
[They turn, and follow with their eyes the gaze of the Roman mob.
Voices of lictors (without). Make way, ye Romans, way for the noble Ten!
3rd Cit. Pah! they announce them like to royal kings!
1st Cit. Tyrants are ceremonious to the letter.
Multitude. All hail to the lawgivers! Life and peace
Unto the Ten!
2nd Cit. Jove's lightning strike them down,
The turncoats! Ah, the cowards and the curs!
Perfidious gang of fawners! Do they thus
Forget their wrongs in the wrongdoer's presence,
Or veil them with that slime, false loyalty?
[Enter the Ten Decemvirs, each preceded by twelve lictors armed with fasces.
4th Cit. Lo! the presumption! How each lictor bears
Amongst his rods an axe to indicate
That life and death lie in his master's word.
Once was each tyrant pleased with one attendant
The way to clear—now must they number twelve.